35$ "Nuts," Mr. Dickey said, and nodded toward the cell where the man lay on the cot. Outside, when he stood in the courthouse yard, he saw the sunshine falling over the roofs of the buildings and on the stones and the young grass. People were moving up and down the street. People he knew. He walked soberly across the square toward his office. He had gone to the jail afraid to tell Doctor MacDonald what the board had done. He had been afraid of the way Doctor MacDonald might take it. He should have known, he thought now, the way it would be: Doctor MacDonald standing there in the middle of the cell floor, his weight forward off his heels, his face showing nothing. It was Doc- tor MacDonald who had laid a hand on his shoulder, and had said, "Take it easy." It had gone past Doctor Mac- Donald and had never shaken him. But the next day when he saw Doctor MacDonald he was not so sure. Watching him stand at the cell door, ready to call Mr. Dickey, Doctor MacDonald said suddenly, "Don't it smell in here to you?" Mr. Munn turned to look at him. " Don't it stink?" Doctor MacDonald demanded. "Yes," Mr. Munn admitted, aware, anew, of the fetid, almost sweet odour, as of rottenness, "I reckon it does, a little." "It stunk mightily to me, at first," Doctor MacDonald said, " but it don't seem like it stinks now. A man gets used to a thing. It gets natural to him." He stopped moving about, as he had been doing, his carpet slippers making a dry, sliding noise on the concrete. " That's what I don't like," he added, "it getting so natural. It looks like a stink oughter stay a stink to a man." Mr. Munn grinned, thinking it a joke. Then he noticed that Doctor MacDonald was not grinning. Mr. Munn let the muscles of his face relax. Doctor MacDonald lay down on the cot, staring up at the ceiling.